


vanilla

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: #cousyinspace, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, IN SPACE!, Sex in Space, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Sharing Clothes, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:19:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11779128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: For #cousyinspace. Prompts: Coulson as a damsel space princess who gets Sleeping Beautied or Rapunzeled etc and needs to be rescued.I borrowed something from the terrible Valerian film.





	vanilla

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts).



"Coulson."

His face switches from concentrated boredom to disbelief as he turns to find her opening the door to the chamber room.

As she steps towards him, he rises from the lounging couch, pushing past plush seating and opulent tables laden with food.

But he moves towards her like she's the only thing that exists here, and throws himself into her arms, as she hugs him tightly, face pressed against his chest.

"Are you okay?" she wants to know, pulling away to examine him for a moment, touching him lightly, over the brightly-colored clothing.

The reply doesn't come quite quickly enough, and the tips of his ears start to redden.

In the presence of his captors, he was more concerned about charming his way to an escape than thinking about what he was wearing.

But now, with someone familiar here, and this _particular_ someone....

"Can you run in that?" she asks him, before taking the gun out of her holster and taking his hand, pressing it to his palm.

He looks it over and figures out the configuration quickly, but his eyes widen as her mouth drops open a little, her gaze falling down the length of him while he's distracted with the gun.

"It's ceremonial," he informs her, about his clothing. Trying to concentrate, he moves past her as the garment rustles and shimmers with him.

"Right." She stops him, practical, and then turns him back around to face her, then bends to her knees and pulls at the fabric at his hips until he hears a rip.

Once, then twice, and he waits until she stands, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

"Better?" she asks quietly, then gives him a sly grin. "Don't you hate running in those things?"

"Yeah," he agrees.

  
####

  
"They were going to ** _eat me_**?!"

"Sorry. What else did you think? That it was some kind of marriage arrangement?" she asks, leaning against the back of the chair with their clunker of a ship on autopilot.

"Well, look at me," he says, extending his arms so that she looks at his outfit again. Turning so that she can take in the whole thing, knee boots and all.

"You really _do_ look delectable," she says with teasing smirk.

He opens his mouth to protest, or...he's not sure what, then shuts it, and yanks the headdress off and tosses it to the floor instead.

Things are different now. After they escaped the penal colony, they had to part ways, _again_. And this time-

"I thought I was being charming," he sighs. "Their leader seemed to think I was charming," he goes on and slumps onto the edge of the console.

"Maybe thinking about what to take a bite of first," she says with a dirty laugh, as she works at the coms station.

"Do you have something around here I can change into?"

"You're looking at it," she replies, tugging on her long-sleeved sweater as she walks past him and motions to the cabin. "All of it. I don't think you can fit into my jacket."

There's not much room in that room, either.

He stares at the lone sleeping cot. Daisy likes small spaces, but usually alone.

"I'm trying to track down the rest of the team so we can rendezvous," she tells him, pulling the sweater off over her head and then handing it to him. "Here."

"The shirt off your back?" he asks, as she rolls her eyes, and picks up her leather jacket and slips it on over her sports bra.

"What's that stuff made of anyway?" she asks, and motions at this clothing. "Is it...you know..."

"Edible?" he asks loudly, then shrugs.

"Yeah," she asks, moving closer. "Don't worry. I don't bite."

"You're enjoying this _way_ too much," he points out, slipping out of the shiny and tight red half-shirt and handing it to her, noticing her eyes fall on his scar for only a moment.

"What flavor do you think it is?" she asks, and then glances down towards his waist. "Vanilla?"

"Missed you, too," he huffs, and moves past her to look for what passes as a bathroom around here.

He hears her low laugh as the door closes behind him.

  
####

  
They eat in silence, or he watches her eat, because he's not very hungry.

All he's done for the last week is eat and now he knows why.

Besides, her rations don't look very good. Or like she's enjoying them, which bothers him.

"Hey, legs: feet off the table," she says between quick bites.

"Sorry, Captain," he answers, and slides the boot back down and stands up.

Daisy looks like she hasn't been eating well, and who knows the state of the rest of the team. Although, at least they managed to get in touch, let them know they were safe for now.

He's surprised to find that his prosthetic is compatible with the alien vessel interface and links up to it, starts to download data.

Probably Daisy's doing, since she's written the code for all of their equipment since forever.

"Our lives just keep getting more complicated," she says at him, glancing him over, then turning in the swivel chair with her back to him.

"At least we still found each other," he calls back, and can't help but smile thinking about it.  You could hardly call it luck at this point.

"I'm sorry that you didn't get an alien marriage proposal. Someone who appreciates you for who you really are."

She sounds too sincere about it, and appears beside him, looking down at the display, reviewing some of the data streaming across it.

"Do you remember all that," she goes on. "Or is it just stored there?"

"It's not cybernetic," he says, a little caught off guard by her sweetness and the small talk. "It's not helping me process, it's just a tool."

"Would you want that?" she asks, setting her fingers on it. "Something that makes you special but that makes you vulnerable, too?"

"You mean like your powers? Do I want to be a superhero?" he mulls it over, shrugs. 'If you needed me to be, I guess?"

She gives a silent laugh at that and looks up at him with delight in her eyes. "What about the Earth? And out here in...wherever we are? What if they need-"

"They already have you," he interrupts, as she takes her hand off his arm. "But, I could try, I guess. Do my best?"

"You always say the most-" she shakes her head at him. "Silly-" "Beautiful-"

While he's trying to formulate a possible reply, she pushes forward and pops up on the toe of his boot long enough to give him a quick kiss.

He sees her eyelashes flutter and he freezes in place, as she starts to back away, a frown forming between her eyebrows.

"Are you okay?" he asks her.

He doesn't want it to end like it did last time.

Then when she quickly nods, he dips his head to kiss her back.

  
####

  
"You say 'vanilla' like it's a bad thing."

"Vanilla?" he repeats, as he unlatches the decorative belt, and lets it drop to the floor. "That means boring. That's like calling me a guy in a suit, right?"

She gets up on the cot and turns him until he's pointed toward the tiny bathroom mirror, with her behind him in the reflection.

"I liked your suits," she goes on, leaning down to put her lips close to his ear, spilling her hair down his shoulders. "Besides, I thought you liked simple things."

"I do," he replies, leaning up into the kiss she plants on his neck, then turns his face to hers.

"What kind of vanilla?" she asks him, just as he slips his tongue into her mouth, and her hands dip below his waistband, nails grazing his skin.

"Guess there are different kinds," he gasps, turning to her, moving with her to the edge of the cot, when she slides her other hand along a white boot up his knee, along the inside of his thigh, enough to tickle the hair there.

"Technically, I'm an alien, but I'm afraid I don't have much to offer," she says, fanning her hand out across the cabin. "Behold, my kingdom."

After that, she makes room for him to sit next to her, as they both lean back together onto the creaking cot sharing sighs.

"I don't know how to do this. With you," she admits, touching her hand against his arm, where the prosthetic joins. "It usually just happens and then it's over with."

There's a pause, a long enough one that he props his head up on his elbow.

"I don't want this to be over with," she says, looking at the ceiling. 

"Sadly, I'm going to have to settle for someone who appreciates me for who I really am," he says, looking over at her. "I had to come a really long way to find it, so, it must be the rarest thing of all."

"I think it found you," she says with a flash of her eyes on his.

"It always does."

She slowly smiles, her expression brightening until she almost looks embarrassed and kisses him like she's trying to hide it, until he's wrapped his arms around her and they've tangled themselves together, his hands getting free to slip the jacket down her arms and push it away.

"I bet I can get into your pants," he teases, working at the button at her waist, and getting it loose, then finding another, and another, until he slips his hand lower.

"You're not wearing my pants," she groans, and slips her thumb along his bottom lip, then tenses when he twists his fingers, as her voice pitches higher. " _Probably_."

"Mmm. We'll see."


End file.
